and four broken ribs, but other than that, sheâs OK. Sheâll stay in the hospital tonight, but sheâs expected to make a full recovery. Her parents are with her.â
Oakley finished the bandage and stood up. âBroken ribs are the worst. It hurts whenever you breathe. Poor Mary.â He shook his head. âThank goodness I was on Raja today. No other horse would have been able to go that fast and jump like that. Heâs the one that saved her life. The EMTs said that if the helicopter hadnât gotten there so quickly, she could have died. I think Raja liked it â going fast, I meanâ¦Raja, youâre the best,â he said, giving me a hug, âyou saved Maryâs life.â
Michelle patted my neck and pressed a sugar cube to my lips. âYou knew her life was in danger, didnât you, boy.â She turned to Oakley, âI swear this horse is a genius.â
Oakley nodded in agreement, âApart from being scared for Mary, that gallop was the most exciting thing Iâve ever done, even better than the jumpers at Wellington.â
I agree. Galloping and jumping across country is almost as good as racing.
âI saw you blazing across the field,â Prism grinned at me the next afternoon. âYou looked like a timber horse coming up to the finish.â
âWhatâs a timber?â I started to say, but was drowned out by the terriers barking loudly as a big hay wagon lumbered into the yard, then the grinding, gravelly creak, creak, creak of the hay elevator bringing the bales up to the hayloft above us, and thump, thump, thump as they were unloaded and stacked.
Speedy wiped his dripping face with his shirt, joking with the farmer as they lifted the bales off the precariously stacked wagon and placed each one on the elevator.
âIâm glad weâre gettinâ this hay in today. Theyâre callinâ for some bad weather. The cows are all lyinâ down. We gonâ get some RAIN.â
He shouted as the bales chugged their way toward the big hayloft door in the side of the barn, âOakley, ready? You keepinâ count? After this load, weâre done.â
âReadyâ a voice replied from the dark opening.
Sinister clouds gathered on the horizon, slowly advancing, accompanied by low rumbles of thunder. The sticky, unbearably heavy air was so thick that you had to push your way through it, if you had the energy. I stood still, head next to the fan on my door, drenched in sweat, not wanting to move.
After the hay was unloaded, Speedy began afternoon chores. He turned up the radio and sang along as he swept the aisle, âAhhhâm so in love with you.â He paused outside my stall to turn on the hose and give me a casual pat. âThe Reverend Al Green, ainât no one better.â
He moved from stall to stall, topping off the water buckets and singing with a group of interested terriers following him, hoping for a corn chip, then racing toward him each time he casually dropped one.
âBLEEP, BLEEP,â the radio interrupted Al Green, followed by a voice. âA severe weather warning for the tri-county region has been issued. A storm is moving east with hail, wind gusts up to 50 miles an hour and possible flash flooding. A severe weather warning is in effect.â
âSounds like weâre in for a big one,â he muttered, turning off the hose. Several horses heard him as he started measuring out the afternoon feed, and nickered and banged their buckets in anticipation. As another song came on the radio, a heavy rain started drumming an insistent rhythm on the barn roof. I began to paw the ground.
âWhat is it, Raja?â Speedy went out to close the outside top doors of all of the stalls and then came back to me, âEasy, boy.â
CRASH! The thunder sounded as if it were tearing the sky apart.
âWhy, Raja, I think you musâ be afraid of thunderstorms. I had an old dawg scared of